Hogwart's Heavenly Inferno
by Sally the Simpleton
Summary: He had the power of the Angels, she had the charm of the Devil... And the Wizarding world depends on them. They, their Creators had everything planned out... expect for him and her to fall in love...
1. Introduction

Author's Note: Ok, new story! yaaay! Happy happy joy joy! Please Reada nd review.

I need a beta! beta here?

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**Introduction **: God Vs. Satan !

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He walked down the corridor, in the buzzing crowd of people, never being noticed by anyone. It could have been vexing, but to him it wasn't. Being anonymous was reassuring in a way; with the things he was doing. 

The walls of the castle were old and had seen many things. Maybe one of his kinds had been here as well, way before him. A smile blossomed on his face. He had an oddly proportioned face, a big mouth and a small nose, big eyes deep in his skull. His skin was the colour of slightly over-baked bread. His hair was dark, oddly silvery sometimes. He was short, with a slim body and fragile looking arms. He moved graciously, like a ballerina.

He was rather plain really; he was noticed by some girls, because of his happy smile. His smile was very special: it was warm, comforting, loving and adoring all at the same time. Seeing that smile often lifted the days of several persons. He didn't mind if they didn't talk to him, but as long as they smiled after seen him, everything was alright.

His pace wasn't slow or quick; he walked completely in peace and lightly. He was a happy light-hearted person; a rare thing in the Slytherin house. He was always there, in the background, silent and ready to support those who needed help. He didn't blend with the other boys; he was rather with girls.

The girls would often laugh and say he was their guardian angel. He always smiles a bit broader then. It was true things were different with him. His personality seemed to emanate light that reassured everyone around him. Even arguing couples would suddenly become loving again in his presence. And he always managed to this without a word.

He was lovely. He was a silent star in a cloudless, dark night.

The Main Gate was open and he smelled the first winds of spring. He just had one long corridor to go and then, he could feel the first real sunlight of the New Spring on his face. He sensed the sun, already closing his eyes in anticipation. Why couldn't it be spring and summer the whole year?

But instead of shy sunlight he felt a shadow slicker on his face and opened his eyes.

A tall figure was bouncing down the corridor, pestering and swearing under her breath. Yet her pace was quick and catchy. She had her heavy loaded schoolbag in one hand, letting in wave it around her not caring if it could hit someone. Her hair bounced unsynchronized with her, creating odd waves in the air.

She bounced past him, not taking any notice of his presence. Her bag almost hit him; she didn't even bother to apologize.

He followed the girl with his eyes. She hoped up the stairs, taking two steps a time. Her hair moved as if they were alive by their selves. The girl turned towards the stairs guiding her upwards.

He wondered sometimes what the girl was thinking; she seemed sometimes to be a bit like him.

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"- Fucking, fucking, FUCKING sun! Just makes holes in the ozone layer, creates skin cancer and sunburns. Who can love that friggin' aster? It's bloody annoying. Why cannot it be autumn and winter all through the year?" 

The girl continued her course in a quick, impatient pace. She had an important meeting later on that day and sorely needed a Portkey; she just had to send an owl to a certain person and she would receive one. But she had to pay; so she prepared potions she delivered to her Portkey maker through owl post. She had to wake up early that morning to add some fresh dew into the potion. It was the final step of it.

Her feet contently bounced a bit higher and felt the vial in her pocket bounce on her thigh. Peeves was floating in the air, with a bucket of half molten snow in his hands. She skilfully managed to put a spell on him that would slow his movements. With a little luck, some students would be just under the bucket as the spell would end.

She loved to play indirect pranks on people. It was so fun to do since no one ever suspected her and she could always rush to her victim and comfort the person in an act of pure hypocorism interpreted as friendship.

Her fanatic bouncing caused soon her whole body to jiggle, wobbling her breasts slightly underneath her robe. How she loved her lovely looks! She was quite pretty, she was well aware of that. But she loved so to destabilise her potential enemies by suddenly becoming all pretty. She just adored their shocked faces, and laughed to the point of crying when they suddenly asked her out.

She was so cruel to everyone and no one noticed it. She was glad over the fact that one couldn't see how rotten she was inside.

Her body betrayed her a bit maybe; she was extremely tall for her age and gender. She was almost six feet tall (okay- five feet, eight inches), and had a massive body. She wasn't fat; it looked like she was an entirely own species of the Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Her body was like a monument of pink marble; expensive and unbreakable.

If you would cut her head away from her body, she was pretty enough to win any beauty contest with her huge rust red brown eyes and long thick brown-strawberry blond hair. Her skin was perfectly flawless. Her nose was a bit strong maybe, but was perfectly harmonizing with the rest of her face.

Her voice was another thing that gave her away: it was loud and slightly malicious, often analysing. But no one thought it was odd; she was after all who she was; it belonged to her.

People were so blind sometimes.

But she had to admit that she somehow liked all these people around her. She tricked and fooled them gently and they didn't notice it at all. She liked to create havoc and mayhem, but she almost regretted to destroy Hogwarts. Surely it wasn't as grand or beautiful as some things she had destroyed in the time of an eye blink. But it had a unique quality, a thing she had felt in another place before.

She arrived to the owlery, slightly wondering who the outside strolling dark haired boy was. She wondered if he wasn't like her sometimes.

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It's a story as old as the world. Every one knows it, in a form or another. We see it all the times around us. It's so banal we barely notice it anymore. It's everywhere: in cartoons, in wars, in philosophy, in psychology, in humans, in TV, in newspapers, in movies, in commercials, in school, in History, in geography, in books – even in this story. 

It was such a cliché really.

Yes, you guessed it (and even if you didn't, we forgive you; it is so obvious it's painful): The classic old fashioned fight against good and evil.

Even God and Lucifer had enough to toy with the world. Really, it was becoming boring to always have to fight against each other for each and every course of action they wanted to take. They jeopardized each other.

Frankly it was quite boring. It kept on and on and ON, for ages. They had already once a similar fight and Satan had won. (Just so you know, the dinosaurs did all die because of a meteor field fell on earth. The meteors had been thrown by Satan and his pals. Each time you killed the dino population on one side of the earth, you received an extra).

Quite frankly, God had been relieved they had killed the dinosaurs. They listened to New-Age music all the time and thought gold paint was fashionable. (Yes- Dinosaurs weren't stupid as we assume. They had the IQ of a dead oyster (as some people we know cough Lavender Brown cough cough Puck –X-choke). But they had managed somehow to invent crap music, cheap bling-bling and synthetic watermelon chewing gum.)

God had the opportunity then to start again life on earth. He created the first humans (who were Adam and STEVEN; all kinds of misinterpretation when you read a crap translation) in his own made garden.

God had made a little mistake whilst making his garden; there was only good in it. So Adam and Steven lived all happily and it was quite _boring_ (as happy people are). So God provoked Satan to put something into his garden.

It was supposed to be a prank; but they lost control over it, and the humans were suddenly on earth.

Satan, to make up for his mistake, promised to arrange the earth for them. He created an atmosphere, plants and more animals. God helped him to hold other humans.

It was the first time Satan and God worked together, thus giving humans good as well as evil in them.

Another big misconception about God and Satan is the angels and demons. God accepted everyone as they were; he was surrounded by spirits he had dreamt about and yearned to know. The Angel Gabriel was actually one huge amoeba, always shifting sizes. Cupid was rain, a bee or a bird, depending on his mood or on the weather. Everyone was as they wanted to be. And it was good so.

Satan again was surrounded by people he had made out of clay, his divine toys. He had made them all the time, as soon as he was bored; and he bored very often. Satan was able to make those creations with seeds he had stolen from the Eden. He had eaten each and every fruit of the lost Paradise, making himself sick. He had thrown them up. Afraid of God yelling at him, Satan covered his vomit with clay. Clay which one he had played with later on, realizing he could make things come alive through it.

So God was surrounded by his thoughts, Satan by his creatures. They gave them purposes and goals, and sent them on earth. They watched their made-up soldiers fight against each other.

After playing that a long time, they played with the human minds. Their created friends and colleagues were free then to go on earth and walk around and meet those they wanted to know. They helped people; they created mass destructions and mayhem.

But these games were all the time the same. The ultimate divinities started to get bored. And they knew what they wanted.

They wanted the ultimate game: to turn one of each of their armies against each other.

It was time to play again. This time it wouldn't be dinosaurs who go down; it would be the wizarding world.

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TADA! A Promised story. Please, please read and review! I love your feedback. And all you fantic religious people, don't be bothered to owl me. I have nothing against god; I just hate his fan club. 

Love to the rest of you, esp. to Flair Verone if she reads this.


	2. Meet the Masters

**Author's Note:** Oh merde! I always forget to put the disclaimer! Well here it is.

**Disclaimer:** EVERYTHING IS MINE! HOGWARTS IS! GOD IS AS WELL AS SATAN! (Yes, we call it 'denial')

Author's Note n°2: Thank you thank you thank you! Thanks to Flair Verona, to Puck –X-, even is its my roommate and special thanks to shock.

This chapter is for you Shock!

REMEMBER TO REVIEW! PLEASSSSEEE review! Flames if it has to be, but pleeeeasssse review. Or I'll come and whine in your dreams.

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**Chapter one**: And so Might it Be!

He walked outside, in the sun, enjoying the warmth of it on his skin. He was feeling bubbly inside. The beauty of the nature always managed to make him calm down.

He was looking forward to the meeting he had later on the day. He would get picked up by his elder sister that he loved very much. In fact, there weren't really people he hated. He just liked some people more than others.

He decided to stay the whole morning outside until it was time to leave for Hogsmade. He never, ever ate anything. He didn't need to: he always was full. He eventually drank tea sometimes and polity nibbled a scone. He was rarely seen in the great hall.

Rumours told he was a vampire; he had laughed wearing them. He definitely didn't belong to the category of demoniac persons. He was rather the kind that had little wings and a halo. According to the stereotypes.

It seemed definitely to be a good day. He turned around in circles, making his robe voluminous and twirly. It was great fun; it reminded him of the years before Hogwarts.

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After having sent her owl, she hesitated slightly between returning to her dorm or to go breakfast. After a moment of thinking, she went to great hall to get some breakfast.

She loved to eat. She always ate a lot, but she piled neatly her well cut food on her fork and chew always before swallowing. Often people did barely notice how much she ate. She loved also to bake (maybe because of her baked birth). She often made very greasy things, like doughnuts and fried them thoroughly before covering them in sugar. She could eat a dozens of them in less than an hour. Often House Elves watched her with frightened eyes; she was capable of eating a fifth of the whole school tea bread if she was hungry.

House elves fed her with bakery when she was in the library reading horrible tomes of obscure magic and history, in hope she'll stop pestering them with her 'freedom'.

Whilst she was finishing her third plate of waffles, a magnificent rust red owl carried a note to her.

She smiled happily, blinking to thank the owl. Her Portkey was there. She decided to eat three apples and two scones just to celebrate the beginning of the day.

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Without either of them noticing, it was suddenly time to leave for Hogsmade.

He smiled gently to the sun as he walked slowly towards the little village, catching up on his way three girls, none of them happy or joyful. He talked to them and listened to their problems, smiled gently smiling to them, happy to be of help.

She stomped off, all in black, pestering against the sun, her two friends sporting behind her, wondering how she managed to walk so quickly. Usually she walked lazily, whining when they ran, she having the shortest legs.

Both set foot in the village with exactly 16 minutes of difference. Whilst he was waiting for his sister, she was running towards the shrieking Sack.

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Her friends weren't surprised to see her go; she had her own little adventures and things to take care off; she liked them a lot for that. She hoped sometimes that they could be like her.

She had briefly wondered at some points if one of them actually wasn't one of _them_. One of disgusting, harp-playing, toga-wearing pricks. He seemed so clueless and lost and immature and somehow so, so _young. _None of them, from both rival religious camps were _young_. Immature maybe, but not young. You had no age after a while; you were immortal, neither young nor old. Your body might have the appearance of a child, but the person inside was elder than earth.

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His sister was already waiting for him as he stepped in to the Three Broomsticks. Well, for him she was his sister; for others she was his mum. She was called Seraphina, a name she refused to change with time; she was a known angel; so known in fact that she had her own category.

He sighed. Seraphina was his sister because they were made from the same dream.

Sometimes being him wasn't easy. He was young, yet old. He was always, always, _always _too smart for his peers; it annoyed him somehow. It was difficult to help people by telling them similar stories than theirs; only those people were often long dead. And he couldn't lie by telling he was the protagonist of the stories.

He had the wonderful, yet horrible capacity - or incapacity, to lie. He always told the truth, he never lied. He could make the truth softer, but he couldn't hide it.

He was precocious, no matter in what.

Sometimes he wondered is _she_, the girl with the living hair, wasn't one of his kind; she always seemed more mature, more intelligent, more potent than her peers. Yet her sometimes stupid risks to save the day and excessive showing-off made him unsure about it.

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She took out the reversed pentacle she had received and put it around her neck. She clasped it tightly in her hand and started to hum her favourite children's nurse rhyme.

"The Devil owns a sawmill, and We're all the Trees. …. Hum… hummm… Always shelter from the storm, because evil comes in many forms. Lightning jump-starts deadened hearts, That seek to saw the world apart. Hide yourself from the storm, to keep your skin from being torn. …. Flannery had a Devil, or so my Mother said. The Demon kept on working, After Flannery was dead, Instead of Using Timber, To build the rich folk homes, The Demon went out hunting …… FOR WICKED CHILDREN'S BONES! "

Just as she finished singing, she felt the usual tug behind her bellybutton and let herself twirl away from Hogsmade to Finland. Where Hell froze often over. Hell as in Helsinki of course.

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His sister smiled to him and beckoned to him to follow her. This was unusual; usually Seraphina told him directly His messages. Obviously this was something bigger, because suddenly, an odd, old man was in front of him.

"- Meet Aberforth Dumbledore."

The man was smiling with his yes, which were the oddest colour he had seen in his life; they were blue and green, small planets and galaxies in his eyes. This wasn't a normal wizard; he was ready to bet (although it was a sin) that he was no other than the archangel Gabriel.

Big things were obviously going to happen. All three walked towards the Shrieking sack, walking slowly, without talking, in a comfortable silence.

They walked over the Shrieking Sack and into the Forbidden Forest. There, they sat down on moss covered stones, hand outstretched to meet each others fingertips. He heard a slight sputter and closed his eyes. He felt wind on his cheeks and sun on his skin. He was naked, and he felt wonderfully free; he was light. Gabriel and Seraphina took his hands in theirs and slowly guided him forwards.

As he opened his eyes, he was the in Forest, being himself, yet not completely. He fluttered towards Him; being carried by his sister and Gabriel. Life flowed around him like a wild and crazy firework spectacle.

They jumped down into the lake, from where they went trough water canals up to the highest tip of the Mountain Everest. There he waited for them.

No one had really dared to watch him into the eyes. He had to remember not to watch him. He was terribly curious, a quality non-well seen by the other angels. He was rather unorthodox sometimes, making him unique. Like everybody else.

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When she landed in Finland, she felt suddenly better; the sun was only pointing out shyly under a mass of clouds and it was very cold, with snow every where. It was mercifully dark and gloomy.

She had appeared in a dirty, smelly toilet. She heard metros rumble under her feet; she was underground. She went out from the toilet and walked up the first stairs she found.

A late teenager was waiting for her. He had red dyed hair, a fully pierced face, an obvious tattoo on his neck and he had on a long, black, mink coat. He was shivering. He loved the sun as much as she hated it. She was her oldest friend; they weren't often together these past millenniums; she worked among humans, and he took care of contra-divine interventions.

"- _Finally!_ Have you any idea about how bloody _cold_ it is here?" but both figures hugged nonetheless. But as she had him in his arms, she still saw the battered faced man behind them.

He was obviously one of those hundreds of alcoholic men on the streets. She briefly considered her options. First of all, she could give him money. This would make him buy more alcohol and die slowly with the years if he didn't die of cold before. Or then she could give him nothing and let him die even more surely on the streets. Or then, she could make sure that the tram that was nearby could roll over him, thus creating a stop in the tram line, this creating too much electricity in wires which would explode, leaving Helsinki in the dark.

Yes, yes, that was what she would do. But suddenly the old dirty man watched her in the eyes, and she felt her eyes warm up. He was no ordinary man.

The boy released her from his hug and ventured for her to follow him. She followed him nonplussed as the boy brought her to the stinking man.

"- Here she is."

She was about to release an impressing amount of foul words, but suddenly they got stuck in her throat. She sucked in air as she watched the old mans eyes.

"- You are…. I missed you."

She bent down and kissed the old man's cheek who was suddenly lean and clean, slightly smelling like azoth. He kissed her cheeks back in greeting. He was so handsome in hs real form it was a sin.

"- Lucifer" she finished and blushed.

"- Yes I am. And He's waiting for us; you're going to meet Pappa after such a long time!"

She clapped her hands and laughed.

"- Ooh! It's going to be nice to meet him again!"

The red haired boy smiled whilst twisting her hair. He was happy to see what he considered to be his bestest of friends so happy. How she loved to create messes around her! He had always loved to try out new things with her. They were big consumers of the 'Devil's Weed". They actually invented the whole thing. He had created all new kind drugs to pass time with. He liked to undermine people sneakily.

So he watched his friend in the corner of the eye before saying, laughing already at the stupid pun.

"- You don't know the best part; he's got a hell of job for you."

All three started laughing, and Lucifer ventured them to move. They walked into the museum of modern art of Helsinki, apparently without being noticed. They walked through the cloakroom and Lucifer opened a door with an odd shaped key. The key looked like a Pez dispenser.

They walked down a spiral staircase which would have made anyone else dizzy. Lucifer led the walk, she in the middle and the red haired boy closed the walk. Finally they were in something that looked like a crossover of an Indian teahouse and a French renaissance brothel. In the very end of the quite big room was a person sitting on large cushions, smoking a hookah.

"- Welcome back!"

She took off her shoes and threw off her cloak and long sleeved cardigan on the floor before toppling to the imposing figure.

Well she was more running impatiently, like a child running to her long missed father.

"- Pappa!"

" – My lovely little Ache! C'm 'ere! "

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**Author's Post Note:** Pappa means 'daddy' in Swedish. 


	3. Ready, Set GO

**Author's Note:** I'm somehow very much in love with this story, so be gentle with it.

A couple of reviews would be lovely though.

Sorry I haven't updated in a while.

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**Chapter 2:** Ready, set…. GO!

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God sighed and watched the young boy in front of him. He inhaled sharply before sighing. Poor boy, he has no idea what is going to hit him. But it had to be done. Divine boredom was making him sick. And when sick, Satan could do whatever he wanted to the earth before God could even notice what was going on.

Besides, Satan was becoming more powerful. And that was very, very, _very_ bad. God had to gain some power again. The world couldn't continue on like this; not forever.

His talk with Satan hadn't gone as well as planned. They had to decide together who, when, where and for how long they would play with the wizarding world.

The rules had been simple: each one of them had one chosen one that would fight against another one. Their confrontation wouldn't be direct, one had to spread goodness as the other one tried to infest the same place with evil. It was a sneaky game, where both sides had to be talented.

The real problems started with the location. Satan wanted it to take place in Asia or in Africa, whereas God wanted it to happen in Australia or Europe. They had tried to settle with America, but both parties couldn't possibly find a place where both wanted it to happen.

Ironically Satan wanted it to happen in Los Angeles; God wanted it to take place in Utah, near the Mormons. Both actually wanted it to take place in Hogwarts, yet they didn't dare propose the place; it would have been too obvious.

This had been their first big fight in ages. After an hour of yelling they finally settled for England. God had proposed Hogwarts, crossing his fingers under the table, hoping that Satan wouldn't know about his angel being there. Satan did the same thing, only hoping God wouldn't about _her_.

The other deal had been the time limit. Satan wanted it to be settled in a week, God wanted three months. They settled after another hour for twelve days.

Twelve was a good number; it was the perfect number according to the bible; Satan found it was perfect too: his agent would have time to destroy her rival and to take over Hogwarts.

Then, they started yelling at each other about the winner's prize. The destruction or the salvation of the wizarding world.

How would it be made? What will Satan do? How will he do it? By killing all the witches and wizards at once? By taking their magic? By creating a mass genocide so that they would kill each other during centuries? By making every witch and wizard sterile? Release a virus on them? Kill them methodically by spontaneous combustion?

How would God save them? Through Harry Potter? Through laws? Love? Tolerance? Change them all? Make them powerless and stupid? Bring rivals together by gently cooperation? Make people suffer the same pain they inflict on others? Give them a total, half insane, power greedy leader with a big heart?

God sighed later on, noticing how easy it was to be evil. Being good was difficult. But that made it worth fighting for.

You remembered the names of the plagues and diseases on the worlds, but rarely those who cured them. You had difficulties remembering five names of peacemakers that didn't used force and armies to get what they wanted (Mother Theresa (well she didn't actually do anything for world's peace), Gandhi, Martin Luther King and…. Eerrr… yea.). But to enumerate dictators was easy (Hitler, Lenin, Mussolini, Mao Zedong and Stalin).

Evil is remembered forever. Evil brings out thing in people that no one could ever imagine. Creativity was in its fullest form when it had to cause destruction. Torturers are the most imaginative people existing.

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God opened his eyes again, and settled his eyes on the boy in front of him. He looked humbly down, yet he could see him trying to catch a glimpse of his face under his eyelashes. God smiled; he was mature, yet had the freshness of the youth in him. He was sometimes unorthodox and sneaky, two qualities that were good for this quest.

He was the one for the job. It was undeniable. He liked being a human; or at least to look like one. He never felt pain, never ate, never got sick, he was never tired. He was ready twenty-four seven to help anyone. He barely slept.

He had been the one to help people. He had invented locks and doors, to stop people from beating each other to death for no reason. He had been the one inventing virginity belts, the one to make people concerned about hygiene. He was Flemming, the inventor of penicillin, a priest, ready to help the poor, the orphans and the widows. He had been a noble knight during Middle-Age, Gandhi's dreams, the Beatles chance to become famous. He spread the Hippie Culture; he was in France to protest against war. He was an activist against animal testing; a super ecologist. He was Snape's courage; he made Snape change camps and help the Order.

He was love, hope and faith.

He was a martyr; he had been a role model for Jesus. Actually, he _was_ Jesus. He wasn't literally God's son, but something pretty close to it. He wanted people to forgive each other and for love to rule the world.

He had been a priest in each and every religion imaginable (expect for any branch of Satanism; he couldn't come near them; he wasn't allow to. Satan's disciples couldn't go into the holy house of God (well, they could go to some of them) the rule was the same for the Satanists.)

He had tried being a girl; it had been his thing for a while. He loved to dance, especially ballet. Ballet had the absurd notion of wanting to make people fly. Sometimes, for a split second, they dancers did fly, like quicksilver moonlight shadows on the stage. He had been ballerinas his past three lifetimes. His ability of not eating, of never being tired or sick made him the best dancer possible.

Being a girl and a ballerina wasn't easy. Yet he had been the brightest stars in the Ballet History. Being a man and doing ballet was easier, but he felt like he cheated if he didn't suffer like the other girls.

He found it lovely that he still walked like a dancer. He wasn't going to quit from that habit just under the pretence of him being a boy.

He never wanted to look handsome; he didn't want to that advantage on people. People were more comfortable around someone that was plain than with someone that was beautiful;

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Satan maybe liked her the most. She was so pretty, plump and cute.

She had been the one to suggest to the first men to hit each other with their clubs that were used for breaking coconuts.

She had destroyed Pompeii. She had been a model for Michelangelo, Edgar Allan Poe's Muse, a maid of Marquis de Sade, the mistress of an SS officer who was thrown in the extermination camps. She had been Helen of Troy the destroyer men's hearts, Queen Elisabeth the First, strict sovereign. She was the first to open an opium stand in China, the first girl to be drawn on the walls of the caverns prehistoric men lived in. She was the one who's had murmured into people's ears to burn witches. She had been the one to kill the last tyrannosaurus Rex, the first one induce fashion as a social status. She had been Cortez, the starter of the Maya genocide, the creator who had made rats strong and bearer of the black plague.

Satan could say she had a major part to play in human History. She liked to create paradoxes and confusion. Yet she was gently too sometimes. She was the one who created the subconscious. She was a goddess in her own way; she had played wonderfully her part as Morgan, the Celtic goddess of nightmares. But her adorers had moved on and so had she. She was very easily bored; that's why it was good to give her assignments and challenges; it kept her going.

He passed his arms around the girl that has sitting next to him. She was quite good-looking now. Blonde-red hair suited her the best. She had been silver-haired during Middle-Age, brunette during WWII, red haired during the Renaissance, blonde in prehistorically times. Her hair had been multicoloured during the punk years, and she had had black hair during the drug hippies years passed with her pierced friend.

God only knew (Satan sniggered always whilst using that sentence; God didn't know more about your thoughts than Santa Claus) how naughty she could be. She had a preference towards gluttony and laziness in the seven deadly sins. She did however crack easily for luxury. Satan didn't like this however; he was very possessive about his creation. More than one of her lovers had been mysteriously killed (think John F. Kennedy).

"- Yes? How may I help you?"

Hermione Granger looked up to Satan and smiled. Finally she might know what was the point of having her in Hogwarts.

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God watched down on the boy in front of him.

"- My Son, I have the most important mission for you ever since your days of being Jesus. Now, you in the form of Blaise Zabini. You have to save the wizarding world."

* * *

Tada! Now you know who'se who! 


End file.
